


Pack Street: Off The Wall

by MoochyMunchkin



Series: Pack Street Fandom [1]
Category: Pack Street - Fandom, Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Fanwork of Fanwork, Gen, Pack Street Fanverse, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 18:46:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8811991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoochyMunchkin/pseuds/MoochyMunchkin
Summary: Bored, bored, bored. Never a good combo when Anneke and Wolter are around. So watch your step or they'll start bouncing off the walls.





	

**Author's Note:**

> These are non-canon as concerns Weaver's and MisterEAnon's real Pack Street stories, but I hope you find them fun. This one is a daft idea I had and hope you enjoy. It's lighthearted and meaningless, but I think you'll get a chuckle or two.

Balls will always get you in trouble, one way or the other. Sis is always telling me that. I always tell her that’s kind of the whole  _ point _ , but she never acknowledges my brilliance. Anneke’s a bitch like that.

Hehe, bitch.

“Okay, okay, two points this time,” I said idly, throwing and catching the little tiny india rubber ball. “Go.”

“Floor, wall, one paw catch, no bounce,” Anneke replied. “And if you don’t make it, the pants come off.”

“My  _ pants _ !? Come off it! There’s got to be something left to play for next round,” I grumble.

Anneke snorted derisively. “You wanted an easy target, I get an easy pick.”

“I’ll unzip.”

“Pfft, whatever. Just throw.”

I did so, an easy over-paw lob that sends the little ball spinning across the lobby, where it smacks into the dirty tiled floor, poinks off the dirty painted wall and flips back easily into my paw. An easy over-paw catch that still looks kind snazzy. “Two points!” I rejoice, throwing my paws in the air, tail wagging beneath me. “Sock off.”

“Whaaattt?” Anneke flips her ears up. “Fuck off, more like.”

“Fiiinnee, but you’ve gotta do a three pointer.”

“Hmm.” Anneke twirls the ball in her hairy digits for a moment. “Ceiling, TV.”

“That’s not—” I began, but Anneke held up a paw.

“Ceiling and TV, which will not only turn  _ on _ , but be ZNN.”

“Bullshit,” I replied. “That’ll be a pants off. As if—”

_ Poing, poing, “...And earlier today, Zootopia’s very own bunny in blue, Judy Hopps stopped a… _ ”

“Well fuck me,” I said, blinking, as I take the ball from her, staring at it like it might bite me. “Alright, spill, how’d you do that?”

“Pants off first,” purred my good for nothing sister. I sighed, unzipped and stepped out of my cargo pants. She snatched them from me, pulled off her honest-to-goodness skirt, which she threw over my muzzle. So I took a deep breath, sue me. Anyway, as Anneke was zipping up my pants over her wide hips, she turns and gives me a look.

“What?” I asked.

“Double or nothing. I get it to switch channels, you wear the skirt.”

“Hmph,” I grunted. I twirled the ball in my own paw. I bounced it off the television, only managing to make it rattle. “Pants come back off?”

“Or the skirt goes on.”

“Deal.”

Anneke grinned, playing with the ball from where she’d picked it up. I watched it intently as it hopped between her fingers. Then she threw it… whipping her paw back at the last second. I’m not entirely ashamed to say that I almost yipped in excitement. She did that a couple more times, then finally threw it. My jaw almost hit the floor as the television did indeed switch channels.

“Buh… how? Uh… what?”

“Skirt. Then I’ll tell.”

Ears flat against my head, I pull up Sis’ skirt. I can’t quite get the damned thing clasped properly, so before I know it, my bitch of a sister has come up behind me and is instructing me how to put on her lewdly short skirt.

“It’s like  _ this _ idiot, you put this through that loop, then—”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” I reply. I didn’t got it. I fumbled for a few moments more before she rolls her eyes and helps anyway.

“Yeah, and now I got  _ you _ .” She grasps me around the waist and pulls my butt against her crotch. “Unf, unf, just like you like it. Yeah, how’s that feel? Take my meat!”

I snap and snarl, showing teeth. I know she’s playing, but I don’t have to like it, not in public. Dominance behaviour is kind of a big deal for wolves, even aardwolves. And I’ll be fucked if I let my sister… uh, well,  _ fuck me _ , I guess.

“Hey hey, don’t need to be such a bitch about it,” Anneke says with a smirk. I show her the single digit. Sadly, Marty is cruising past. He’s got a weird look on his face. I flip him the bird too, for good measure. He flips it to me back.

“At least I know who wears the pants in your family,” the little shit says. I grab the bouncy ball and fling it at him. It bounces off his head, tripping him into the snack machine. I snatch the ball out of the air and turn to my sister and grin.

“Three points! Gimme my pants back!”

“Nuh uh, not if I can get a three pointer.”

Without even flicking an eyelid, Anneke snatches it from me and tosses the ball at the snack machine which dislodges a  _ Rodeo _ chocolate bar — of all the things to keep in a snack machine in an apartment populated by  _ wolves _ — before bouncing off and hitting Betty, just coming inside from some errand, in the back of the head.

“OW! What the fuck! Alright, which of you chucklefucks did that!?”

It’s in moments like this that I realize how much I love my sister. We’re so much in sync.

“He did it,” Anneke says, pointing at Marty.

“Oh what the  _ fuck, _ Anneke!” hisses Marty, scuttling backwards.

“We’ve told him,” I add, agreeing with my sister. “Take it outside, we said, but he didn’t listen.”

“Et tu, Wolter?” moans the stoat, before he scampers under the sofa  _ just _ as Betty leaps for him. The sofa — with both myself and my sister on it — goes flying. Growling and snarling, almost frothing at the mouth in fact, Betty charges through after the streak of lightning which is Marty as he heads up the stairs.

“Aaaaaaavvvvvvoooooooooo! She’s gonna kiiiiillll meeeeee!” the stoat screams, as he rounds the bend. I hear Marty’s door slam shut as Avo peeks her head out of the little bitches room.

“What the  _ fuck _ ?”

“Five point break!” I hiss at Anneke as I snatch the ball from where it’s fallen and bounce it off Avo right between the eyes. She stumbles back into the bathroom and there’s this ominous sounding  _ sploosh! _ From the tiled interior, followed by a mass of cursing.

“That, dear brother, was  _ awesome _ !”

We’re still congratulating each other when a large, fat shadow looms over the pair of us, and we’re both lifted clear into the air, me by one leg, my sister by another.

Is it weird I’m both kind of turned on as well as mortified that my panties are showing? Oh, right, did I forget to add that this whole stupid thing hinged on my accidentally putting on Anneke’s panties this morning? Because it did.

Al looks down at me in confusion as he realizes there is something  _ different _ about the wolf wearing the skirt. For a moment, he takes a sniff at my crotch before being absolutely sure that it’s me and not my sister. Not that either one of us really have a pack position better than the other.

“Alright you fleabags, I told you before, if I see either of you playing with your balls inside, you’ll  _ lose _ ‘em!”

I can’t help the whine that escapes my lips as I dangle upside down from his paw.

“Oh shut up,” he adds, an angry sneer on his muzzle as he glares down at me. “Looks like you’re halfway to the body you always wanted anyway. Besides,” he leans down and lifts me higher, “you always were a little  _ bitch _ .”

I’m not sure whether it was the blood rushing to my head, the terrible thought that Al might actually make good on his threats of emasculation or whether it was out of some perverse sense of comedic timing — though probably the latter, I never was one for a sense of self-preservation — but that was when I made one last bad decision. Mister Squeaks, my mousie chewtoy — yes,  _ that _ Mister Squeaks, the species insensitive rodent-shaped squeaky chew toy with the comically large hat from a few years ago — was squeaked not once, not twice, but three times before being waved back and forth in front of Al.

I know, I know, I should have known, but when has that ever stopped me?

“You want it? You want it? Get it! It’s getting away!”

Several things happened at once at this point. Firstly, Mister Squeaks went flying through the air. Second, both my sister and myself  _ also _ went flying through the air as Al, unable to control himself, leaped after Mister Squeaks. And Remmy, that mutton-headed wannabite chomp-chump came in through the door, getting hit square between his eyes by the rubber rodent.

Remmy went down in a tangle of bleating and fastfood, Al barrelled after him — through him, to be more precise — like a hairy cannonball and I ended up upside down against the wall lodged under the sofa.

Next to the remote, where Anneke had been sitting on it. Where, again to be more precise, Anneke had been hiding it to do her incredible, impossible bouncy ball and television set trick.

I spot the remote. Anneke spots that I’ve spotted the remote. I spot Anneke. She grins, stands up slowly, backs up… then bolts for it, swiftly heading out the front door just as Al is trying to come back in.

Al body checks my sister, who rebounds off a Remmy covered in firefly sauce — he bleats again, though I’m not sure if now he’s bleating from pain, fear or sadness of losing what has to be one of the Maker’s finest creations, the bugburga burger — and slams into me.

And then it got worse, with fate itself dressed as Al, who has been unarguably described as a stuffed blubbery sack of fur, calling the deciding shots. For what Al is stuffed with is almost entirely muscle.

 

Consciousness returned like a drunk roommate at three in the morning. Unwelcome and covered in goodness knows what. And I’ve been covered in a lot of things, so you can bet this one was extra gross. And it came bearing gifts. Mainly a thumping headache from where Al had used my sister’s head and mine like maracas as he patiently explained, once again, the rules about playing with balls inside.

“Augh, everything hurts. Do you… do you still have the remote?” I ask Anneke.

“Yeah, yeah. I do. Just shut up, and never talk me into strip-bounce again.”

I grumble as she turns on the television, after all it  _ had _ been her idea in the first place. I settle back into the sofa, both of us now the right way up, as a stoat sits next to me. At first I think it’s Marty, but then I realize it’s Martina, his… sister? Cousin? Fucked if I know, but she’s pretty enough.

“Hey,” I say to her, licking a paw and smoothing down my headfur.

“H-hey,” she says back, nervously. Cute thing’s all nervous-like. I can dig it. “D-do you come here often?”

“I, uh… live here.” I reply. I’ve not really spoken to Martina before, and for some reason she seems more nervous than I expect, and more anxious to speak with me.

“You, um, have… a very nice skirt. I-is it a Louis Mutton?”

“Augh! I don’t… I don’t normally wear female clothing, this is just... “

Martina pats my leg, giving me a strange look. “It’s okay,” she says, “you look good in it.”

“Thanks,” I grouch. “You not here to see Marty?” I ask.

“I’m just… I mean he’s hiding in his room un-until Betty’s calmed down, so I, uh, don’t want to pressure him. Yeah.” Martina grins, wide.

“Whatever.” I slouch, then shuffle about a bit, then put a paw behind me, digging down into the cushions. My paw returns with a spherical, rubbery,  _ bouncy _ object clutched in its digits. I look around for Al, who’s stomped off somewhere and is nowhere to be seen. “Hey, I know, how about a game?”

Anneke rolls her eyes, but I can hear her tail thumping.

“Okay, okay, two points this time,” I said idly, throwing and catching the little tiny india rubber ball. “Go.”


End file.
